The Restaurant Stage

An insiders look behind the veil of the day to day life of a practicing restaurant worker. With over 30 years experience in the hospitality industry I try to maintain a civil approach to viewing what goes on in the business. I have worked in all types and styles of hotels, restaurants, and bars. From the mom and pop operation to the domains of the celebrity chef. North to south and east to west, I've been there and done that. I have worked every position from dishwasher to manager. I have had the opportunity to serve everyone from Presidents to the homeless. I stand above no one, nor below. I stay humble, and hope others appreciate my candid look at what we do.

[thestageblog]

Risotto with Gulf Shrimp, Pequillo Sofrito, Enoki Mushroom, Tasso, Sundried Tomatoes, and the last bottle of Dixie Beer. #domssoulkitchen #dominicimichael #dixiebeer (at Bywater Bakery) https://www.instagram.com/p/CCcPOlZhbID483J3P45Mthem3ufLkHDoRNanUg0/?igshid=xbb6cqid1kdy

[thestageblog]

Sorry the blurry picture, but this was taken in haste. A hit and run on the corner. The car that got hit took out the fire hydrant. The runner is the SUV on the neutral ground in the background. (at 7th Ward of New Orleans) https://www.instagram.com/p/CCSLOkDhIGUgb4DTrOm6tER0xuMp-xalhVcQNs0/?igshid=1i9cb7rczryl6

[thestageblog]

Don’s Soul Kitchen sweet potato and butternut squash gnocchi. #michaeldominiciphotography (at New Orleans, Louisiana) https://www.instagram.com/p/CCRmlOxh3JWoRO2AyXp6vrW2f92pK7urvWizLI0/?igshid=190w62teizlmv

[thestageblog]

A little something I put together last night. Summery. Lighter. Shrimp Scampi with fresh corn, sweet one hundreds, mozzarella cheese, torn basil, extra virgin olive oil, and aged balsamic vinegar. (at Bywater Bakery) https://www.instagram.com/p/CCCRmrAho-b8wqiCISO4cIt11oSd5bvIaEdx_g0/?igshid=2t1tg3awdf64

[thestageblog]

North Rim. (at North Rim, Arizona) https://www.instagram.com/p/CBWNUg2hbfOC2jFYyVqzucHFY-J9YR_bJpyk2c0/?igshid=26a5fjxr1za7

[thestageblog]

Grand Canyon North Rim (at Bright Angel Point Trail) https://www.instagram.com/p/CBWMjfchV5nDLs9SMcHyRknlb4qK2wO37w4Ccw0/?igshid=fa1okk12naj5

[thestageblog]

“Like desperados waiting for a train.” (at Brownfield, Texas) https://www.instagram.com/p/CBWL1kOh6hYt_F6XgibVVbE2v4giMKtqDiZ88s0/?igshid=86ecsy46of8d

[thestageblog]

The first monsoon rain of the summer. US Hwy 380 headed toward Capitan. (at Carrizozo, New Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/p/CBWLTJbhS1GNuYHU-fvG3xvXMPRXaN5CXVvz940/?igshid=1btcafeaixg89

[thestageblog]

A Few Things We Need To Come To Grips With

March 27th, 2020 -  8:35 PM

COVID-19 is a tragedy in the making. There are no good answers. The only way I've read to survive COVID-19 is if your immune system already has the antibodies to repel it, or you have to get it and survive it. So, testing is our only way out of this. Testing everyone. We need to know, who's got it, who's had it, and who's got the right genetic structure to withstand it and build from there.

Last, I would like to throw this out there just to make it a part of the conversation. COVID-19 is an industry-wide healthcare emergency. COVID-19 points to probably one of the greatest obstacles of modern times. The healthcare system at its present state needs to change. What happens when, rather than if a COVID-19 type of virus attacks again. The healthcare system and government must be able to act faster to contain the next contagion. Here is my proposal, nationalize healthcare temporarily.

Develop an agency that combines the combined knowledge of professionals in all fields to attack the medical emergency as first responders do. Let medical national emergencies be the key element. An organization independent, who work by themselves to coordinate quick responses at all levels of government. Kind of like the fire department. A bell goes off and they go into action.

[thestageblog]

I'm sitting here on my couch writing openly, without embellishment to an audience of my friends and peers. I have always believed I'd work until the day I couldn't work anymore. I, nor anyone I know saw this coming. Who could look into their crystal ball and see where things would be as they are just now.

I miss every one of you each and every day. I miss my coworkers. I miss my customers. I miss talking to the guy who comes to the bar and sits down in front of me and allows me to serve them. The pleasure I got from that simple action. The joy of making one person's life just a little bit better.

My job here is hoping that you share my thoughts with yours, my ideas with yours. In this time I've had to shelter in place. I've read so much. An obsession. I've come to understand COVID-19 as best I possibly can. I've come to understand the importance of two very important things.

First, COVID-19 is nothing to mess with. The virus can kill. It will kill. But, at the same time I need to clarify the fact the virus isn't what is killing, it is the human immune system. Corona viruses are any numbers of viruses that make up the common cold. The problem lies in the fact that the human body has never seen this one, so our immune system is reacting to this new virus.

The most important decision our government can make is testing. Testing everyone. There are new signs that have come in the last few days. The one most important is the antibody test that was just approved by the FDA. This test is essential if the world is to move forward. An antibody test will show who is infected, who isn’t infected, who has had the virus, and who has the antibodies to deal with COVID-19.

My goal is to create a forum for all of us. Thank you.

[thestageblog]

“Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune, Bird fly high by the light of the moon, Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.” #bobdylan https://www.instagram.com/p/B54CEuUB0v_3ZKREFr9gNeQ3FGG00dwIyLJVS00/?igshid=o1ilfae1ilyc

[thestageblog]

Survived Another Black Friday

Black. Black is the color of the night. Black is the color of the uniform. Black shoes with black socks. Black pants with a black belt. Black shirt with a black undershirt and black tie. 

Saturday. A very rainy day. Today, not yesterday. Another “atmospheric river” coming ashore this weekend. The house is dark. Kind of like my soul today. The only thing that’ll bring me back around is the game of the week and chats with the family. Oh, and coffee. Black coffee. Lots of black coffee.

It’s the last day of the month and it’s time to move on. My main gig isn’t working out. The money just isn’t there. Nor, are the people. It’s a decent place when it’s busy. When it’s not, it’s a ghost town. These days it’s primarily a ghost town. It is Thanksgiving weekend, and a lot of people are out of town or shopping. So that may have something to do with it, but this weekend was scary slow.

Tonight I go to work at Black Cat, a jazz club on the edge of the Tenderloin. Looking forward to this one. It’s a pretty hip spot. It has a small bar up top with the music club downstairs.

Music venues are a whole different animal. You work mainly when the shows are in town. Weekends are always big and busy and the money is decent. It was like that in New Orleans those many years ago.

<Had to take a break from this post. Writer’s block.>

Back again. It’s Monday, December 9th. Overcast. Listening to Dylan. Got called off. Time to check the labor laws about this to see if I’m not getting compensated correctly.

The new gig is decent. I haven’t seen the money yet, so I can’t say until I do. I like the tunes and the vibe. The place needs some work though. Organization. Not sure it ever had any, but it could turn into a great gig if things get set up correctly.

The day gig was wild on Friday. Eighty-two reservations on the books and one hundred and thirty-two showed up. I got my ass handed to me. There was no way I could move fast enough to serve all those people. I survived. Dogs were barking. Called out from the night gig. Who the fuck cares. Not me.

[thestageblog]

I found this guy on the hood of my car this morning. Enduring all the bullshit in life just got a lot easier to deal with. #minions #minionmemes https://www.instagram.com/p/B5s1Wm_B5K47dw9PpagQJg0Cv2Z_GsXWc2bMis0/?igshid=1lowfkad3st0

[thestageblog]

Messy Bartenders

Sometimes I get the opinion the only reason I get called into work is to straighten out the mess from the bartender who worked the night before.

I understand it is the week of Thanksgiving and it’s slow, but what the fuck. This guy couldn’t even do the basics. Clean, just clean, please!

Yesterday, I’m on a phone interview for a new gig when I get the text to come in and open the bar. I’m scheduled for the four-thirty shift, meaning I work at the restaurant level bar. I’m not scheduled as the opener, which is scheduled to come in at three. Yeah, I’m trying to get the hell out of this place. I haven’t found the right fit yet.

I get there early, misunderstanding the message, I’m supposed to get there at three-thirty to begin opening the bar. Not come early and get the bar opened by three-thirty.

I show up and begin noticing one thing after the other either not done, or not done correctly. Everywhere I look I find something new. At one point I get in this strange place where there is so much screwed up, I don’t know where to begin. I revert back to my instincts. Do the necessary things to just get the bar ready for service and do the rest of them throughout the night. It is Thanksgiving Eve and it’ll probably be slow.

At least I’m not working the roof, I tell myself. It’s cold as fuck and raining. Plus, there’s the Christmas Pop Up up there. Another cluster fuck.

By four, I’m beginning to get things organized; trash cans, fruit cut, ice for the well. The restaurant manager asks if I’ve seen the scheduled barback on my way to the elevator with two buckets of ice. Of course, I haven’t. I guess this is my night to work alone. Again.

Well, at the end of it all, I survived. I was home before midnight with a sore back and eighty bucks I didn’t have at the beginning of the day. I set here Thanksgiving Day, drinking coffee, a football game on the television, the Cocteau Twins on the stereo feeling thankful I’m not working at that sadsack restaurant today.

Tomorrow is Black Friday, a busy day at the day gig, and I’ll deal with the same way I deal with every shift. A smile and coffee. Q.

[thestageblog]

Brooklyn Cocktail 2 oz. Bulleit Rye 1 oz. Sweet Vermouth 1/4 oz. Luxardo Maraschino Cherry Stir/Strain up in Coupe glass, garnish with Brandied Cherry #broolyncocktail #bulleitrye #martiniandrossi #luxardomaraschinoliqueur #waterbarsf @waterbarsf (at Waterbar)

[thestageblog]

Ah, the Dreaded Valentine’s Day

Wednesday, February 14th Yes, it is that day once again. The day when the neophytes explode on to the scene at every restaurant they might possibly make that dreaded last minute reservation. It is the night for couples, children and four-tops are unwanted tableside distractions.

The day when the restauranteur pulls out all the stops, creating all those thrills and chills for memories escaping into the bliss of a blue radiating phone screen. Four-course tasting menus are presented like cards in a casino with wild creative substitutions for the late night diners shoehorned in after closing time.

Almost everywhere on the planet American capitalism can reach, the Hallmark holiday will end in disaster. The too grandiose expectations of maligned couples will leave establishments forlorn, while the six o’clock reservations leave in total ecstasy.

This is the day restauranteurs pull down every table and chair in the attic in the attempt to outperform last years revenues. The offerings of Champagne and caviar come with added accoutrements and price tags. Where the server reminds one of the fast-talking used car salesman, rather the cordial gentleperson who was their friend two days before. The day the bartender creates every pink colored alchemy they might possibly conceive.

Valentine’s Day. The days begin early and the shift is long. In the end, some staff walks away with smiles and tired feet, while others clean up the mess. 

[thestageblog]

Does Anyone Know Where It All Began

Does anyone ever know where it all began? Somewhere back there. That’s the way it is. We wake up one day and things aren’t what they seem. Your life is one big Raymond Chandler who-done-it. Something reminisced in a Tom Waits song.

The fog hangs in the air like a blanket, both in comfort and pain.

It suppresses the will to live.

It comforts the soul of the drunkard.

Why is it that the bars along Market have their ceilings so low, and their lights so dim?

It all reminds me of those long lost dank nights in New Orleans.

I would hide in a corner booth brooding over the human condition.

Too bright for my own existence.

I live like all those artists before me, half awake, and the other half in denial.

Here I set, a glass of beer in one hand, while I’m toying with a bourbon in the other.

An empty High Life sets on the bar aching for replacement.

I catch a glimpse of her hiding behind the frame of my Ray Bans.

Veronica Lake with years.

The smoke from her cigarette dances pirouettes’ up away from her fingers finishing in an arabesque before melting into the haze.

Ray Charles is on the jukebox, something slow and bluesy.

Somebody, please shoot me to end this misery.

She took the boy and left me sometime after sunrise.

I’d come home one too many times too drunk to care.

Woke up in the haze of too much Jagermeister and Red Bull.

Just another torch song trilogy.

Why can’t life be as simple as the one I grew up with on television?

Things happen for a reason, or so I’m told.

The things happening around me are more like the Perseid meteor shower.

If I move one inch the wrong way, I’ll get one smashing through my skull.

Life is not that complicated.

Sobriety comes with complications.

Always the pain in the brain for the fix of just one drink.

Time to get back to work. Time to move on with my life. Time to forget the past. My hell is I remember everything no matter how drunk I get.